Definitely
by Gitana del Sol
Summary: Written for the Quidditch League Competition, season 3, round 2, in which Andromeda Black grows up with her best friend. Score: 10/10


**The prompt was familial friendship. I chose to do the friendship between Bellatrix and Andromeda Black.**

**A NOTE: the time-line of this entry is based on my head canon of the Black sisters. The _only_ thing not canonical here are the dates of which the Black sisters attend Hogwarts, which I have altered to follow the birthdays of the girls in my WIP, "A Court of Three Sisters." Their birthdays are as follows:**

Bellatrix: 24 March 1954

Andromeda: 30 August 1955

Narcissa: 11 April 1958

**Many thanks to _Lokilette_ and _The Lady Arturia_ and _Nightmare Prince _for editing.**

**Word Count: 2,992**

* * *

_September 1966_

It was well after midnight when Andromeda Black finally slunk out from underneath her covers. Someone was snoring, keeping up an easy rhythm of late-night serenity, broken only by the mumble or two of another girl talking in her sleep. No one noticed little Andromeda Black wince as her feet hit the cold floor or creep towards the door. She bit her lip as she eased the door of the first year dormitory closed. She wasn't quite sure if this was allowed (Hogwarts had proven to be much less tolerant of rule-breaking than Madam Newton), but she was not in the habit of asking permission for the things she wanted.

Andromeda entered the second-years' dormitory without hesitation, casting an eye around for her sister. It didn't take long: Bella was the only one crazy enough to sleep with her feet poking out of the covers, though the mess of black curls helped as well. She crossed the room, lifted the thick quilt, and scrambled right in beside her.

"Bella, wake up." Andromeda tapped her, but she only moaned and shifted away. "Bella! No, move over, you're hogging the covers."

"This is _my_ bed, Droma, go back to your own!"

"Since when have you cared? Besides, I've had a terrible week, and I don't feel like being there with all of _them_." Andromeda huffed, flopping onto her back, glaring up at the underside of the tester. "I hate this place!"

Bellatrix sighed, then asked, "What happened?"

And Andromeda told her all about the terrible people in her year. Lucius Malfoy proved to be the biggest prat in history, and Alice Prewett from Gryffindor wasn't much better. Then there was prissy Peony Travers, who was rude to everyone except Mindora Rowle, a dim-witted girl who did everything Peony asked of her. The only other Slytherin girl that year was Catherine Taylor, but she was a half-blood, if you could even call someone with a _Squib_ for a mother a half-blood, and she was as prickly as an urchin, besides. Ismena Pucey was all right, but she was in Ravenclaw, and you just didn't bring someone from another House into the common room.

She had to nudge Bella afterward to elicit a response.

"Why don't you just come eat breakfast tomorrow with Ophelia and I? You can hang out with us."

"They won't mind?"

"No," Bellatrix mumbled. Andromeda frowned.

"Are you sure? Because Eleanor Flint said most people stay within their years, and Mindora Rowle said that – _ouch_!"

Bellatrix had thrown an arm about her neck and kicked up a knee to her hip, snuggling into her sister's body. It was both endearing and a very clear message to _shut up_. Bellatrix yawned into Andromeda's ear.

"Definitely."

* * *

_October 1967_

Andromeda gritted her teeth as her study partner berated her. She hated that boy. She absolutely, positively detested that arrogant little git! So what if she was having trouble with the Stunning Spell? She knew enough hexes and curses to get herself out of almost any bind, and she was more than clever enough. What did he know?

"You would not last three minutes in a duel with me, Malfoy," she informed him testily. He paused in his criticism of her.

"Is that a challenge, Black? Because that can always be arranged."

She blinked up at him, startled.

"Are you really that daft?"

"Are you really that scared?"

_That_ peeved her, and she narrowed her eyes at him.

"I'm not afraid of anything, Malfoy, least of all you."

"I'll be his second," said Crabbe, who had been lingering at his usual place by Malfoy's shoulder and now leaned in to leer at her, and Andromeda gave him the most contemptuous look she could muster. "Who's yours?"

"Bella," Andromeda answered without hesitation. Malfoy scoffed.

"She's not even here! You can't just assume someone will be your second, especially not with the way _your_ wandwork is currently."

Andromeda opened her mouth to retort with something nasty when his gaze shifted up and over her head. He smirked.

"Well, well, well. How convenient. Oi, Black!"

Andromeda turned around in her seat to see her sister duck through the hidden door in the stone wall of their common room, closely followed by a group of other third-year girls. She took her time going over to the little circle of second-years by the fire.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" she demanded.

"Andromeda here says you'll be her second in a duel," he said, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Okay," Bellatrix said, sounding positively bored. Malfoy looked affronted, and it was plain that he had expected her to look, at the very least, uneasy. He had no idea how strong a friendship between sisters could be.

"I do suggest you have your wits about you for it. This one's charm work has been shoddy all week. She's more likely to stupefy you, if anything comes out at all."

Andromeda flushed but glared at Malfoy, refusing to meet Bellatrix's eyes. His light eyes glittered maliciously as he sneered at her.

"Funny," Bellatrix said, giving him a critical glance-over. "I could have sworn she put Joseph Boot in the hospital wing on Tuesday with a _very_ good Furnunculus Curse." She turned to address her sister. "I wouldn't worry about it, Droma. You don't even need a second with this one."

"I figured as much," Andromeda drawled, lifting her chin so she could peer down her nose at the boy, failing to hold back the smirk. "Still, it's best to get a second opinion."

Ignoring Malfoy's seething expression completely, Bellatrix swooped down to place a kiss on Andromeda's cheek and then brushed her lips by her sister's ear.

"Definitely."

* * *

_May 1969_

Andromeda was still mulling over the events of the past two hours when Bellatrix came bursting into the third-year dormitory.

"Well, how did it go?" she asked without preamble, leaning against one of the oak posts of the bed. Andromeda gave a half-shrug.

"Fine, I guess."

Bella's eyes widened in surprise.

"That bad?"

"No! Well…I don't know."

"How can you not know?" Bellatrix demanded. "You kissed him, didn't you?"

"Yes – well, no, not technically – he kissed me first!" Andromeda sighed as she looked up at her sister, who was looking at her expectantly.

"It was slimier than I expected," Andromeda admitted finally. Bellatrix's eyebrows shot up into her hairline.

"_Slimier_? What in Merlin's name did you do?"

"I don't know…"

"Well, did you keep your tongue in your mouth like I told you?"

"Yes. No. Oh, I don't know!"

Andromeda buried her face into her hands, gnawing on her lip. She could feel her face burning with mortification. She had felt so elated when Gavin MacDougal had offered to walk her to the Slytherin common room, even though he was in Ravenclaw. He had been ever so polite and sweet, carrying her books and telling her how pretty she was. And then he had asked if he could kiss her, and she had said yes, and she had been so very excited because he was _handsome_ and a _fourth-year_. She had expected her first kiss to be sweet and passionate and gentle and fireworks-inducing and simply _perfect_.

She had been greatly disappointed at what had actually transpired and had been hiding in her dormitory ever since.

"What if I'm a terrible kisser," Andromeda whispered, giving voice to her fears for the first time. "What if I'm just no good at it? What if no one ever wants to kiss me ever again, and I just end up alone and die as an old spinster, and-"

"Andromeda, stop," Bellatrix commanded. She moved around the four-poster to sit beside her sister and, taking one of Andromeda's hands in each of hers, tugged her around so that they were sitting cross-legged on the bed, facing each other. "I'll tell you a secret, shall I?"

Andromeda nodded, her bottom lip still caught between her teeth. Bellatrix straightened and tossed back a lock of black curls.

"It is never, and I mean _never_," Bellatrix paused for effect, before continuing, "a witch's fault for a bad kiss. It is the wizard's responsibility to know what he is doing and make sure that the experience is a pleasant one. Furthermore, you are a Black, and Black women know what to do when the case presents itself. So you see, you have nothing to be embarrassed about. If that kiss was anything less than spectacular, then it's Gavin MacDougal who's the bad kisser, and personally, I wouldn't grace him with a second kiss, even if he asked very, very nicely."

Andromeda searched her sister's face for any hint of mockery, but all she saw there was sincerity.

"Is that the way it works? Are you sure?"

Bellatrix nodded confidently.

"Definitely."

* * *

_July 1971_

"Bella, Mother would never approve of this."

Andromeda and Bellatrix had been shopping for new dress robes and swimming wear for the beach party later that week when they stopped by Amortentia, a new boutique that specialized in witches' lingerie. The small shop was dimly lit, and all along the walls and racks were brassieres and undergarments of all styles, colours, and sizes. Andromeda had been inside only once, and only towards the front of the shop, which displayed the more functional brassieres and knickers. The part of the shop the sisters were currently in sold undergarments with a very different purpose than daily-wear.

Bellatrix smiled, her grey eyes sparkling mischievously.

"Mother need never know we were in here," she quipped, inspecting a sheer red brassiere before moving to a rack of painful-looking corsets. "Besides, it isn't Mother's approval you want, is it? It's Acanthus Yaxley's."

Andromeda smiled as she rifled through an assortment of short negligees, feeling a little self-conscious (what if someone from school _saw_ her?) but mostly bold and giddy and very grown-up.

Andromeda fingered the material of a satin bustier. The soft purple material was like water on her fingertips and transitioned gracefully from a satin bodice to a lacy brassiere. A line of ribbon was knitted into the brassiere, meeting right in the middle to twist into an elegant bow of satin. It was beautiful.

"Let's go up to where the leather lingerie is kept," Bellatrix said, coming to stand by her sister's shoulder. "I like most of that better anyway."

"I like this one," Andromeda declared, holding up the violet bustier that had caught her eye.

"It's pretty." Bellatrix nodded in approval. "The colour will look good on you. Ooh, wait here, I'll find the matching panties!" She skipped over to a chest of drawers and began to rifle through them for a pair that matched the violet bodice.

Andromeda tried to hide her smile, but the whole situation was making her giddy. There comes a time in every girl's life when she wants to be desirous to men, when she wants to enchant and captivate their attention. That moment had finally come for Andromeda Black, and the party that would occur at the Flint's beach house would prove to be the perfect opportunity to enchant Acanthus Yaxely, who would be leaving Britain at the end of August.

She held up her item at eye level and noticed, for the first time, a set of straps with little clips at the ends dangling from the bottom.

"Bella, what are these for?" She moved over to show the piece to Bellatrix, who was on tip-toe to see into the contents of the top drawer.

"They clip onto your garters so that they don't fall down."

Andromeda made a face.

"Garters? I'm not wearing any garters, thank you very much. I'll look positively ridiculous with big, poofy ruffles half-way up my thigh and – _oh_!" She broke off because at just that moment, Bellatrix had whipped out, not ridiculous frilly garters, but a sheer pair of stockings. The nylon was so thin, it might not have been there at all, and yet it took the colour perfectly. There was the thinnest lace finish all around the hem, in which little stars were blinking – not shards of crystals or glass meant to resemble stars but actual tiny twinkling lights that danced around each other all along the top hem.

Andromeda needed no further encouragement, and waltzed off to the changing rooms. When she had shimmied into the lingerie, Andromeda took her time scrutinizing herself in the full-length mirrors in the room, ignoring her sister's call to "hurry up and come out already!" But Andromeda did not want to rush herself. The bustier hugged her waist and pushed up her breasts in the most tantalizing way; the hosiery kissed its way up her long legs; and even though the slinky little panties could not hide her knickers, it promised to do its job well after a thorough washing. Looking in the mirror at herself, she certainly did not feel like a school girl. She felt bold, daring, confident, and – dare she say it – _sexy_.

She liked this feeling.

Andromeda did not let an opportunity for dramatics go to waste, and she commanded her sister's attention from the first strut out of her changing room.

"What do you think?" Andromeda asked, crossing her legs and pivoting about seductively, arms lifting to push up her hair. "Think Acanthus will find me irresistible?"

Bellatrix grinned wickedly.

"Definitely."

* * *

_November 1972_

Bellatrix looked annoyed as the floor server brought out another cup of tea, bowing excessively and blushing furiously. They had decided to meet in the new tea shop, though Andromeda wasn't impressed. One look at Bellatrix's face told her that her sister wouldn't be returning either. The boy finally backed away with one last "apologies, Madam Lestrange, my apologies," before finally returning to the bar, face scarlet. Andromeda smirked.

"Well, you just have all the boys trailing after you, don't you, _Madam Lestrange_?" She made sure to lilt her voice in a poor imitation of the boy's accent. Bellatrix made a face.

"Oh please, not you, too! I'm still not completely used to it, and I can't decide whether or not I like it. It sounds a fair bit more sophisticated than 'Mrs. Lestrange' but it reminds me of Rodolphus's mother."

"Family squabbles already?" Andromeda teased.

"She's a dear, really she is," Bellatrix said, dropping two cubes of sugar into her cup. "But she will go on about moving to France and – oh, how did she put it – fill all those spare rooms. Merlin! I want to have sex with your son in those rooms, not fill them with grandchildren!"

Andromeda suddenly pictured Bellatrix standing in a room with bald little infant on her hip while three curly-haired toddlers played around her feet. The image was so unfathomable, she snorted into her cup.

"Don't you laugh," Bellatrix snapped, eyes flashing. "Just you wait until it's _your_ turn! I swear to you, the pressure never ends." She scowled, and Andromeda clicked her tongue in sympathy. Then, in an effort to distract Bellatrix and satisfy her own curiosity, she asked, "You're moving to France?"

Bellatrix hesitated, and Andromeda stiffened in anticipation. She was thinking of her response, for once mulling over her words before letting them slip off her tongue; Bella _never_ thought before she spoke, and certainly never to her sisters.

"I think we'll both be needed here in Britain soon enough," Bellatrix said carefully.

"Why?"

"Things are changing, Droma. Surely you have noticed that things are not what they once were. The tension between the old families and the lower classes has grown exponentially over the past four to six years, and it's not going to calm down. The politics of today reflect–"

"Since when have you been interested in politics?" she demanded, setting her cup down upon its saucer. Bellatrix's eyes flashed.

"I've _always_ been interested in politics, regardless of what Mother thought was 'becoming' for a woman. _You_ were the one who never did show any liking for it."

"Because I don't see why we cannot all just practice moderation and get along."

"It's just not that simple. People _don't_ get along. What are we supposed to do, just lie down and let some-" she stopped, pursing her lips, holding back a very long, very passionate rant. "Some people are suited to be in power, and others are not. When those who bring us down make trouble, we need to stand strong and band together against them. The Ministry is not going to stand for very long, trying to play the mediator. What would you do, Droma?"

"I would try for some diplomacy. I would act like a rational individual: keep a level head and devise a policy that can be agreed upon – a compromise."

"You don't compromise in war!"

"I don't _want _a war, Bella!" Andromeda stated hotly.

They glared at each other, Bellatrix daring and Andromeda defiant. Then they looked away, occupying their hands and lips with their tea, allowing the tension to diffuse. _This_ is why Andromeda disliked politics!

"Is that why you like him?" Andromeda said finally. "Because he talks politics with you?"

"Amongst other things, yes," Bellatrix said with a little smirk. She took a long sip of her tea, and Andromeda's attention was caught by the flash of light reflected off of the gold band on her finger.

"You're my very best friend," she blurted suddenly. "You know that, Bella, don't you?"

"Of course I am, silly," Bellatrix said with a smile. "And that is never going to change. As long as we're together, nothing can bring us down."

"No matter what?" Andromeda prompted softly.

Whether because of the previous friction in their conversation, or that she sensed that edge of doubt in Andromeda's voice, or that even then, her intuition alerted her to the shift in their positions, Bellatrix reached out to fold one of Andromeda's hands into both of hers in an act of rare affection. Their grey eyes met across the little table, identical in colour if not in shape. Bellatrix squeezed her hand.

"Definitely."


End file.
